Chinese Whispers
by binx-349
Summary: Lets start at the very end. It's a very different place to start. [GSR]


A/N: A bizarre Memento-esque format, so do tell me if it sucks completely ok?   
Warnings: Mentions of character death.  
oooooo

_"I'm sorry, we did everything we could" (12:22am 25th October 2013)_

It's such an incredible cliché, and she hates them for it. She sits perfectly still, because if she moves the spell will be broken, it will all be real. It will all be over.

The forms will come; she will have to sign his life away and it hurts more than she thought anything could or would.

Their kind words float over her head, never really reaching her. She seems to have a wall to keep their artificial sentiments away from her. She was sure they, like her, must have had classes in giving bad news at one point. She was one of a million recipients of the same classic line and it gave her no comfort whatsoever.

_"I want this" (9:49am 31st August 2007)_

She glances back to him, a little shock mixed with the obvious excitement. Her hand pauses on the paper rubbing over the image, leaving a smudgy print on her thumb. No words seem forthcoming, mouth moving in a fishlike gawp. 

Sara was still staring at the paper in her hands in vague disbelief. "It's a house."

"Yes," Grissom paused still watching her, "it's also a home, could be our home." He swallows nervously eyes never leaving her face, waiting for some kind of answer, confirmation that it was the right thing. That he wasn't the only one who felt it was time.

The grin that spread moments later was all the evidence he needed. It would live with him until the day he died, infectious and beautiful, his. It was something he wanted to keep etched into his memory, something he would never allow to be forgotten.

_"The end will come, are you prepared?" (13:28pm 17th May 2005)_

The hissed syllables are driven straight home like a nail in the head, breaking through the brittle shell into the softest centre, destroying her sense of calm. She hates to believe it but knows in her heart it's the truth. All things must at some point end. A part of life that is as sure as it can be. If it went on forever it would clash with the laws of nature, same as flying, as magic, as Grissom getting a clue. She smirked a little at that last thought. That wasn't entirely true, now was it?  
He had a clue, and now he certainly knew what to do with it.

The man she was interrogating would have had no clue. A criminalist could be smiling for one of a million reasons from the break in the case to the thought of their next coffee of the day. She didn't think he ever would have guessed her incentive right. It sprung off from such a tangent, a fleeting thought plucked from the air as it passed by. Anything and everything made her think of him however frail the connection.

Thinking back on the event of the past week seemed so surreal, like it wasn't really her, that it couldn't really be him. He had changed as if at the flick of a switch, from aloof avoidance to attentive, caring. It was something she had only ever seen in his actions towards her so rarely. He held her and her stability so precarious recently she wasn't sure how much she trusted that he would be able to maintain it.

Her raison d'être would leave with him. To feel that way made her sick, dependency, and the idea of losing him hit hard and strong.

It had taken her all of thirty seconds for the entire line of thought to hit her fully. The fact the deliverer of the statement had questionable mental capacity didn't stop it from sinking in like a rock in mud. There was something so fundamentally accurate about it. She may not trust the source, but the essence was true, so true. 

_"If you don't do it soon, someone else will," (22:48pm 12th May 2005)_

It was a veritable warning from the darkness to keep her from discovery. It wasn't like it could be hidden forever, or could it. Sara was hoping to delay the inevitable for a little longer, hopefully a lot longer if possible. She knew that this was probably wishful thinking on her part. News, however small, would be spread throughout the lab within days. Something like this, would take mere minutes, and probably make the day Hodges brought a girlfriend in to the lab, look like a class in meditation in comparison. That was an event not to be missed.

Ecklie would find out. It was the way things went around there. The shit would hit the fan in the worst sense of the phrase. It would not be pretty.

This was bad, very, very bad.

What was the worst that could happen, the loss of her job, loss of her credibility, the loss of him? She listed out the repercussions on a scrappy piece of paper, back of an envelope, bookmark. Writing them over and over, as if this would hit home, remind her of what it was she was risking. As if it would help her resist, help her not keep falling for him. Maybe she could learn to forget, to move on from what she now knew. Knowing more was not going to help.

She had considered all of this before of course. Every time she had thought of asking him out, actually, and that had been a fair number of times. She had thought of the impact on her, on him, their jobs, even of the bearing it would have on the team and on the lab. What people were going to say, going to imply.

Taking a deep breath she shakes her head. She wasn't going to let a little thing like the thoughts of others deter her. After promising herself this would work out, she is not about to go back on that now.

_"They all know anyway" (17:04pm 12th May 2005)_

How could they? Sara had only known herself for a few days. The comments in hallways over the years began to sink in, to make sense in a way they never had before. Catherine's, slight raise of eyebrows before she turned, gave rise to a light flush on her cheeks. Subtlety was not Catherine's forte, neither was it hers apparently. How obvious could it have been?

As far as she was aware nothing had changed. She acted no different, looked no different, it was all the same. Normal. Yet still Catherine pulled her up on it, with a cheeky grin and a few enlightened comments. Sara could only hope she wasn't going to say anything to the rest of the team.

She could break it off, run back to her corner, or stick it out and see what happened.

Again she thought it was all the same. The only difference now was that she knew, before she didn't. Now she couldn't go back again, she would always know. It was as she had always feared. She wouldn't be able to manage without it, addicted to him like a drug. He was her heroin, in the best and the worst ways. She got the euphoria and she would get the withdrawal if he once again walked away. The addiction was always there.

She craved him now, as she had never craved for him before. An unquenchable desire that left her hot, frustrated and itching for a comfort that only he could provide her. Closing her eyes she stepped out of the lab, hoping that the drive home might enlighten her more than the previous hour.

_"I won't know where to stop," (10:33am 10th May 2005)_

"Then don't," Sara panted her response, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and dragging him back down to her level. Reuniting their lips with a resolved firmness derived of too many years of emotional repression. An enthusiastic response, greeted as like. A duelling of tongues and heat, moisture that builds and builds to an expected release.

The hard of him against her leg, a frission of awareness across her belly, he caused a reaction in her like none other. He compulsively constricts his hands around her hips. A grip so tight there'll probably be bruises later and she finds that she doesn't care. 

Stretched out on the bed she watches him as his shirt is discarded, along with his pants. She allows herself the pleasure of simply being able to observe him for a moment, before being overcome by the sheer perfection of the moment, the realisation that she has exactly what she's always desired within touching distance.

She bends her knees up, a show of trust to her that she wonders if he even realises. It leaves her feeling exposed, vulnerable. He runs the back of his fingers up her shins dropping a kiss to each knee, suspending himself over her, eyes wide, intense, just as scared as she is. Fingers thread through her hair, over her forehead, down the sides of her cheeks.

He treats her almost as if she might break, taking time over every movement, every gesture, building up into a driving rhythm leaving her to clutch almost desperately at his back; fingers slipping on gleaming sweat-covered skin. A last simple roll of the hips is all it takes to send her over, gasping breaths and contracting muscles, leaving her dizzy.

_"I never thought it would actually happen" (10am 10th May 2005)_

She pulled back, surprised, touching two fingers to her slightly swollen lips, as if to check they were still there. The tingle still remained a unique attribute of his touch. If she didn't move, perhaps the moment would stick. Tomorrow would never come. It would never have to be over.

She still imagined this scenario to be a true stretch of the imagination. His lips were parted still watching her, apprehensive to the end. He seemed about to turn, about to walk away, couldn't have that.

Her fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt, revelling in the solid warmth of his chest, reassurance that she wants this as much as he does. There are never any guarantees in love, but this is as close as it gets.

The next thing she realised is that his lips are on her hair, thumbs massaging along her collarbones, hands making a hesitant exploration of her shoulders. His mouth has landed on the side of her jaw, kisses making their way to the corner of her lips, soft and erotic, melting in moments any hesitations that she may have retained.

_"Why are you here?" (9:45am 10th May 2005)_

A question asked which never did receive an answer. On opening the front door she was surprised by his presence, and did a further double take at his appearance. He looked dishevelled, like he had jumped out of bed, put on the nearest thing to hand. He wore a dark blue T shirt, hair ruffled, adorably so. Shifting uncomfortably he looked impossibly nervous, like there was something leaden weighing down on his mind. It gave him an air of childlike naivety that attracted her like a worker bee to honey. Irresistible.

The question of why he might there barely even crosses her mind. She doesn't care. He's here with her and that's all that matters.

_"This is only the beginning."_


End file.
